


Marked

by sistercacao



Series: GW500 Ficlets [1]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: 500 words, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 04:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13473279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sistercacao/pseuds/sistercacao
Summary: Ficlet: Trowa leaves Quatre something to remember him by.





	Marked

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LJ in 2010 for the GW500 community.

Quatre realized he was gone even before the alarm startled him awake. He'd dreamt, more than felt, the warmth leave the bed, the last lingering kiss placed covertly at the nape of his neck. He'd known he had to catch an early flight for the next stop on the circus tour, that this visit would be brief, but it didn't do much to dampen his disappointment at waking up alone.   
  
He waved a hand over the alarm's motion sensor to kill it, then buried his face deep into his pillow for a few moments, taking in the scent still clinging faintly to the sheets-- heady, dark, masculine. Trowa.  
  
After a blissful moment, Quatre reluctantly rose and lifted back the covers, shivering slightly in the room's chill. Muffling a yawn with the back of his hand, he fumbled in the dark for the light switch. He blinked, blinded for an instant, before his eyes adjusted and he stood, stretching, and headed for the bathroom.  
  
In thirty minutes, his secretary would brief him on the latest political and business news from Earth and the other colonies, and remind him of his schedule for the day, which stuffy meeting he would have to sit through, which white-haired man in an Italian suit he would shake hands with. If he was lucky, a press conference or a luncheon.   
  
The sheets would be changed by the time he'd return to his house, the bedroom tidied up, and Trowa would be on a flight across the galaxy. It would be like he had never been there at all. If only he could trade all those meetings and handshakes just to be able to wake up with Trowa beside him.  
  
Quatre made his way into the spacious bathroom, flicking the switch to flood the marble room white with light. Illuminated now in front of the enormous wall mirror, he gasped at his reflection.  
  
Starkly visible against his pale skin were countless red bruises, marking a clear path from his collarbone to his chest, trailing off somewhere below the waistband of his boxers, each one small and round, the shape of a kiss-- or a bite.   
  
God, he thought, peering at himself, I look positively  _violated_.   
  
Strangely, the thought made him smile. As wild as he'd been last night, at least Trowa had had enough restraint not to leave any visible marks where they couldn't be covered with a shirt. He reached a slender hand up to touch one particularly vicious red spot at the junction of his neck and shoulder. It radiated heat, as if some of Trowa's passion still lingered on his skin there.  
  
And, if he wasn't mistaken, Quatre remembered leaving some impressive scratch marks down Trowa's back himself. He gave his reflection a mischevious little chuckle. Trowa would be feeling those for  _days_.  
  
That realization banished at last the lingering melancholy from waking up alone in his bed, that made even the prospect of endless meetings and business negotiations ahead of him bearable. Even the too-short nature of their time together, their distance in between, could be taken in stride.  
  
After all, marked as they were, they'd have no choice but to return to each other.


End file.
